


Orbit

by Frenchibi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ((and matsuhanayachi cuteness because I am weak)), College AU, Cuddles, I guess that counts as pda then lmao, Kisses, M/M, Multi, and lots of matsuhana sass, mild drinking, prompt: jealous kiss, soft idiots being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: “Can’t believe I haven’t murdered you yet,” Hajime mumbles, earning a half-hearted chuckle from Issei.“Don’t think too much of it,” he says to Hitoka, “they’ve always been like this.”





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PickledPossum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledPossum/gifts).



> For Possum; thank you for your request on tumblr!! I escalated again so this is going in its own fic instead of in my collection, it got kinda huge :')  
> The prompt was "iwaoi: jealous kiss" - yeah, that's sort of in here but then I kinda lost track because I fell into MatsuHanaYachi hell and I just???? hfklsdhlfksa  
> Anyway. Have this. Hope you like it!!

Hajime doesn't consider himself an impatient person, per se. Actually, in some circumstances he's quite convinced he's got the patience of a saint, putting up with the bullshit from a certain meme team and a certain setter all through high school - but right now, he's _fidgeting_.

It's actually sort of ridiculous, he thinks, as his eyes follow the curve of Tooru's spine, his effortless stance, the way he's tilting his head just a little to keep his hair from falling too far into his face. His eyes are alight with buzzing energy, and he's holding a brightly colored cocktail in one hand and gesturing with the other as he talks. To Terushima, no less.

Hajime bites his lip when Tooru smiles - it's the unexpected one, the one that seems to sneak up on him and take over his entire face when he's caught off guard.

He's too far away.

They'd started out so well, too.

When Tetsu opened the door for them (Koutarou right behind him, always hovering, always jittering with nervous energy), Hajime had his arm firmly around Tooru's waist. He nudged him inside, and Tooru grinned at him widely before dumping his jacket in Hajime's arms (of course) and hopping into the living room, enthusiastically greeting the others.

That was fine, though, because Tooru saved him a seat on the sofa. Koutarou and Tetsu have a lot of space, but it gets sort of cramped when the place is full of tall guys - and one small, slightly terrified-looking girl, wedged between Issei and Takahiro.

Hajime remembers them introducing her, remembers the glow in their eyes when they talked about her the first time a couple weeks before, and even now the protective atmosphere around them hasn't shifted one bit.

As the evening passed, Hitoka relaxed a bit, too, and Hajime sort of saw what those two saw in her. She was cute - and he got the impression there might be more to her than met the eye. And of course he couldn’t miss the way her presence made Takahiro and Issei positively light up.

In any case, it was easy to focus on them, on seeing the happiness spread over his friends' faces, when he had his own within his reach.

Now, though? He's tapping his leg, for crying out loud. He forces himself to stop.

Tooru flicks his hair back a little - it's an annoying little tic, one that Hajime usually finds vaguely endearing, but now he can't seem to calm down. His mind provides him (unhelpfully) with the image of Tooru pressed up against a wall, and Hajime's hands pushing his hair back as he marks up his neck, trailing his lips over skin-

Well.

Hajime clenches his eyes shut and forces himself to look away. This is getting ridiculous.

...he lasts about ten seconds, then his eyes drift over to Tooru again. Terushima says something, and Tooru laughs, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

...his mouth.

Hajime shakes his head in an attempt to forcefully change the train of thought he seems to be stuck on. His hands clench over the armrest.

Tooru should be sitting with him, like before. Leaning into him just a little too much, stupid hair tickling Hajime's chin, their hands tangled together in Tooru's lap.

Instead he’s standing way over there, making no move to come back.

Hajime has tuned out most of the conversations happening around him in favor of trying to sort-of lip read what Tooru is saying - it’s not working very well, and he’s torn out of his attempts when the couch dips and a weight settles in beside him.

It’s Koutarou.

He gives Hajime a grin, and his lips are moving but the sound doesn’t quite reach him, so Hajime just nods vaguely. Koutarou’s grin widens, and he turns his attention back to whatever conversation he’s part of, leaving Hajime feeling more dismayed and disgruntled than he’d like to admit.

His eyes drift back to Tooru, who is _still fucking laughing._

 _Get back here already_ , Hajime thinks - like his passive-aggressive thoughts would in any way influence Tooru’s behavior. Tooru always does whatever the hell he wants, anyway.

Most of the time, Hajime doesn’t mind - especially because Tooru has very… colorful ideas, sometimes.

Now, though? He’s losing all of his patience at lightning speed.

Hajime shifts in his seat, sitting up a little straighter, jostling Bo in the process.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but ignores whatever Koutarou says in response in favor of trying to catch Tooru’s eye.

Of course he’s not looking over. He’s way too engrossed in whatever _Terushima_ -

Good lord, Hajime really needs to get a grip.

He clears his throat once, briefly, then raises his voice.

“Tooru!”

It’s satisfying (way more than Hajime wants to admit) when Tooru’s head immediately snaps around, eyes finding him instantly.

 _Mine_ , Hajime thinks, even as Tooru’s brow furrows in confusion.

Hajime beckons him back over with his hand - no need to shout more than necessary. Tooru throws Terushima another glance, shrugging just a little, and then nudging his head towards where Hajime is sitting. Terushima nods his understanding, and when Tooru starts walking, he follows.

Great. Fine. Whatever.

Hajime focuses his attention on Tooru, who stops when he’s standing in front of him.

“What is it, Iwa-chan?”

In response, Hajime just stretches out his arm, reaching for Tooru’s hand. Tooru laces their fingers without thinking (...like it’s a habit, Hajime thinks, and it makes him happier than it probably should), and Hajime takes his chance. He pulls, tugging Tooru towards him and down, until he lands - with a little squeak that definitely shouldn’t be as adorable as it is - in Hajime’s lap.

“Iwa-chan, what-”

But Hajime ignores him, wrapping his arms around him and burying his head in Tooru’s shoulder from behind, though not before pressing a decisive, firm kiss to his neck. It’s not quite what he’d pictured, but it’ll have to do for now.

Tooru stiffens a little, and Hajime swears he feels him blush, from his face down to his neck.

They’re not usually this physical. The touches, yes, those have always been there, but it’s always been low-key. Subtle. At least that was sort of the plan.

Hajime has just now, at this moment, decided he doesn’t care about that anymore. There’s still annoyance prickling under his skin, though it’s gradually being replaced by the comfortable warmth that comes with having Tooru close.

“Sit with me,” Hajime mumbles into the back of Tooru’s shirt.

Tooru laughs a little (Hajime feels it, the tremors in his chest) and lifts his hand to cover Hajime’s with his own.

“...sure,” he says, and that’s that.

Hajime relaxes against Tooru’s back, and Tooru slumps against him, returning the pressure. He shifts, settling himself into a comfortable position, and then he raises his head, lifts his glass a little and resumes his conversation with Terushima.

Strangely, Hajime doesn’t mind so much, now that Tooru’s in his lap. He listens to the rumble of his boyfriend’s voice, paying no attention to the words, instead focusing on the sound, on his steady exhales when he listens, on the subtle ways he shifts his weight.

Hajime breathes in Tooru’s scent, the minty shampoo he uses mixed with the cologne he’s put on for tonight. It’s a little different than usual, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it.

He’s getting so comfortable, at first he doesn’t even register someone talking to him, until Koutarou taps him on the shoulder and tilts his head towards the other sofa, where Hitoka is looking slightly embarrassed, and Issei and Takahiro are looking at him expectantly.

“...hm?”

“Ah, look at him, completely dazed,” Takahiro chides, but his eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Didn’t get enough sleep, huh?” Issei adds.

“...shut up,” Hajime manages, lips still pressed against the fabric of Tooru’s shirt. His boyfriend’s back shakes ever so slightly as he laughs, turning his attention to their friends as well.

“Iwa-chan’s a little grumpy today,” Tooru says. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mean anything by it. He can’t help it sometimes, Hitoka-chan.”

“Can’t believe I haven’t murdered you yet,” Hajime mumbles, earning a half-hearted chuckle from Issei.

“Don’t think too much of it,” he says to Hitoka, “they’ve always been like this.”

She gives a tiny nod, but it seems like she’s found enough resolve to join the conversation.

“...ah, I heard that you all went to highschool together - is that how long you and Iwaizumi-san been together, O-Oikawa san?”

The little stutter is barely noticeable, but Hajime catches how Takahiro shifts and puts a hand on Hitoka’s back nonetheless, and she glances up at him gratefully. It looks like a reassurance, _I’m here_ and _thank you_ , and it strikes Hajime how clearly he reads this when he’s paying attention. It must be because he’s used to seeing Takahiro and Issei communicate without words.

Tooru hums in response to her question, shifting slightly against Hajime’s chest.

“Oh, I’ve known Iwa-chan all my life.”

It doesn’t exactly answer her question, but her eyes widen a little nonetheless, darting between the two of them. “You’re childhood friends?”

“Mhm,” Tooru hums again, and Hajime clicks his tongue.

“You gonna answer her properly, Shittykawa?”

Tooru lets out an amused chuckle, far too smug and self-assured. “I like it better when you tell it! How we met, and all that.”

Takahiro rolls his eyes, and Issei sighs. “They’re dramatic like that sometimes,” he says, waving his hand dismissively.

“Shut up,” Hajime mumbles again, but then he makes an effort to sit up a little and face Hitoka properly. Tooru whines at the loss of contact and chases him when he pulls away, so they end up leaning against the back of the couch with Tooru still in Hajime’s lap, pressing down on top of him because the backrest isn’t very high. Hajime sighs, but when Tooru makes to pull away in response, he just tightens the grip.

“Hold still,” he grumbles, and he can hear Tooru grin. Smug idiot. He knows he’s won.

“Tell the story, Iwa-chan!”

“What, of how you couldn’t dodge a frisbee because you were admiring your reflection?”

Tooru lets out an offended squawk just as Takahiro and Issei start giggling.

“That’s not how we met?!”

“No, but it’s a treasured memory,” Hajime says. “Especially how you cried for like twenty minutes because you were afraid you wouldn’t be pretty anymore because you had a bruise on your face.”

“Iwa-chaaan,” Tooru whines, and Hajime chuckles and squeezes him a bit.

“Fine, I’ll tell the real story.”

He glances over at Hitoka, who looks sort of intimidated, and gives her a small smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist - he makes it so easy.”

Takahiro covers his mouth with his hand in an attempt to snuff out the sounds of his laughter at Tooru’s betrayed expression, and Issei shakes his head exasperatedly.

“See, Yacchan, this is why we keep them around. They’re fantastic entertainment,” Takahiro manages.

Hitoka seems to relax just a bit, but the alarmed look on her face isn’t quite gone. It must be sort of overwhelming, Hajime figures, to be exposed to all four of them at once.

“Actually, Tooru’s mom and my mom are childhood friends as well,” he says, addressing her properly this time. “I’m just one month older, so Tooru’s technically really known me all his life. But… we didn’t live in the same town until we were four, because my family moved around before my dad quit his job. So we’d technically met before, but the first time we really met was when our moms introduced us, the day my family moved in across the street from Tooru’s.”

Tooru nods, setting down his empty glass on the coffee table before leaning back and covering Hajime’s arms with his own, fiddling with his fingers.

“Iwa-chan was such a brute as a kid.”

“And you were a crybaby,” Hajime shoots back, even as he lets his grip go slack so Tooru can thread their fingers together.

“Hmm, you made sure I wasn’t one for long though,” Tooru points out. “You were pretty direct. If you don’t stop crying I’ll leave you behind, and all that.”

Hajime chuckles at that. “Someone had to make you stop your incessant whining.”

“I was four!”

“So was I! That’s no excuse. Your mom just pampered you ‘cause you were the youngest of four. Someone had to give you a reality check.”

Now it’s Tooru’s turn to grumble “shut up” - though he knows that Hajime’s right, and he also knows he’s the perfect definition of _mom’s golden boy_. Hajime wouldn’t exactly accuse Tooru’s mom of favoritism, but it’s pretty obvious that she loves her “little boy” (who towers over her by almost two feet) more than anything - and Tooru is certainly aware of this, and of how to use it to his advantage.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” Hajime adds, for good measure, but even as he says it he feels like a hypocrite because his mind quietly adds _maybe mine does_ and the looks he gets from Issei and Takahiro speak volumes.

This is about as far as Tooru’s going to let him go, too, because he lets out a little laugh and flicks Hajime’s wrist.

“Right.”

He lets that hang there for a second, and Hajime feels color already creeping up his neck (this _traitorous_ body he has, honestly) when Tooru smugly adds: “Well, I don’t need my mom to pamper me now. I’ve got my Iwa-chan to do that these days.”

Both Issei and Takahiro groan loudly at that, but frankly, Hajime couldn’t care less. He considers his options for a moment, and decides that it’s been too long since he’s seen Tooru flustered - plus, Terushima’s still close by and maybe Hajime’s still a little bit salty.

“Fair enough,” he says, and Tooru tenses ever so slightly in surprise.

“Iwa-chan-”

“I mean, you’re mine, after all, so it’s kind of my job.”

He waits for a moment, and then it’s with immense satisfaction that he sees Tooru go beet-red. Takahiro makes an exaggerated “ooooh”-sound and Issei actually claps his hands together, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Iwa-”

But Hajime grabs his chance and shifts, lifting his legs so Tooru loses his balance and tips sideways. He throws out his arms and Hajime catches him, spinning him around just enough so he can pull him close and smoothly kiss him on the mouth, even as his lips curl into a grin.

Tooru pulls away, eyes going wide and skin turning darker still.

“What was that for?!” he asks, and his voice sounds rather shrill.

Hajime just smiles at him, but not without a bit of smugness around the edges.

“Just reminding you,” he says innocently.

“ _Whipped_ ,” Takahiro says, and Issei nods solemnly - especially since that seems to have left Tooru speechless for once.

Hajime’s eyes shift to Hitoka again, who by now is blushing almost as badly as Tooru - and he can’t help himself. He tightens his grip around Tooru’s waist and pulls him close again (tucking Tooru’s head under his chin pretty much without resistance) and winks at her.

She looks positively alarmed, and Takahiro shoots him a glare that screams _how dare you_.

Tooru seems to have resigned himself to his fate, because he extracts the arm that’s now pressed between his side and Hajime’s chest and wedges it between Hajime’s back and the couch instead, snuggling in a little closer.

“...you still didn’t tell the full story,” he mumbles, almost a little dejected.

“Which one? How we met? Or how we got together?”

“...god, it’s so cheesy,” Takahiro says, shaking his head already.

“It’s _romantic_ ,” Tooru argues immediately, and Issei snorts. “Right.”

“Do you even wanna hear it?” Hajime asks, turning his attention back to Hitoka. She seems to have had enough time to compose herself a little (though her face is still sort of flushed) and she nods, managing a smile. “I-if you want to tell it, of course.”

Takahiro looks down at her and a kind of softness immediately takes over his features, even before he brings his arm around her from behind and squeezes her a little. She lets out a tiny, surprised sound, but then she smiles up at him in return.

It’s an exchange Hajime almost feels is too private for this kind of setting, even though they’re not really doing anything particularly affectionate - he figures it’s because he’s not used to seeing that kind of look on his friend’s face.

(And really, what with his own position right now, is he one to talk?)

Okay,” he says, shaking himself out of that train of thought, “well - basically, it took us until third year to realize that we wanted to be… more than friends.”

“What he means to say,” Issei immediately interrupts, “is that it took them seventeen years to get their heads out of their asses and admit that they’d been dating all along. Just, you know, without calling it that.”

Tooru actually gasps, sitting up in offense. “We were not-”

“Sure, Captain,” Takahiro says. “You weren’t already going home together every day, spending all your free time together, going to the movies and to festivals and amusement parks and touching each other all the time-”

Hajime feels himself flush, because now, in retrospect, of course he sees that Takahiro is right - but back then he remembers agonizing over every little thing, waiting and worrying and way too afraid to say a thing-

“Well,” he says, to draw attention away from that uncomfortable truth - “in any case, we hadn’t talked about the future much, but since I didn’t know if Tooru was going to go to a different university, I was pretty terrified of a change, and I felt like I was running out of time. So I decided I had to say something.”

Tooru fidgets in his lap, shifting and reaching for Hajime’s hand. “Mmh, it was on the day before graduation, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown because I’d gotten several offers from universities but I didn’t know which one Iwa-chan was going to - he hadn’t told me anything; he was so distant the days before and I thought for sure I was gonna lose him-”

“Oikawa, do you want me to tell it or do you wanna tell it yourself…?”

Tooru stops immediately, shooting Hajime a dismayed look at the use of his last name. “Hajime-”

“I’m kidding. Keep going. I like hearing you tell it.”

Takahiro coughs loudly into his hand, and Hajime shoots him a glare. Tooru doesn’t take his eyes off Hajime, waiting. “Are you sure?”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “Course. Go ahead.”

“I did interrupt-”

“Tooru. Tell the story.”

They’re both caught off guard when, from between Issei and Takahiro, they suddenly hear a soft laugh from Hitoka.

“...you’re really close, aren’t you?” she says, smiling.

Issei puts his arm around her as well, crossing over Takahiro’s to do so. “They’re the sappiest people we know.”

“I’ll wear that badge with honor,” Tooru says, and Hajime snorts.

“Sure. Anything that makes you the best at something,” he teases.

“Anyway,” Tooru says (and Hajime swallows his laughter in favor of listening, because despite all the banter, he really does like hearing Tooru tell it), “I was really nervous and couldn’t really take waiting anymore - and then I suddenly get a message from Iwa-chan. Which, you know, is sort of weird? Because he never texts if he can help it.”

Hajime shrugs, tugging at Tooru’s waist a little to get him to come closer again. He complies, leaning back against his chest.

“He told me to come out to the playground. It was really late, too, like 1am or something? I got really nervous, but… it felt like I knew? Like - hey, don’t laugh, I swear it did! Like something inevitable. So I got up and I ran.”

“...in his socks,” Hajime adds helpfully, and watches Hitoka’s smile grow.

“Mhm, I didn’t have time for shoes, this was a serious matter!”

“He arrived in record time though - and I don’t think I’d ever seen him that out of breath.”

“Well what do you expect! When you think you might get a confession from the love of your life, of course you’re gonna run as fast as you can!”

Hajime grins and tightens his grip a little. “You certainly did.”

“Besides,” Tooru says, with a petulant pout, “Iwa-chan might’ve just changed his mind if I hadn’t hurried!”

“Bullshit,” Takahiro and Issei mutter at the same time, and this time it’s Hajime’s turn to exclaim in offense.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re such a _tsundere_ sometimes, Iwa-chan! It was so hard to get sincere feelings from you!”

Hajime raises his eyebrows, even as Hitoka lets out a tiny, barely noticeable giggle.

“I’ll show you tsundere when I drop you on the floor, Shittykawa.”

Tooru’s eyes widen, half in mock-terror and half in real surprise as Hajime tilts his legs, threatening to tip him over onto the carpet. He gasps and wraps his arms around Hajime’s neck, pulling himself close.

“Nooo, no, Iwa-chan, don’t drop me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“...’s what I thought,” Hajime grumbles, taking his chance to kiss Tooru’s cheek briefly because he’s so close. Tooru’s back to beaming almost instantly.

“And then your confession got interrupted by the rain!” He turns back to Hitoka. “Would you believe it? So cliché!”

“You were lucky it rained, that way you could pretend you weren’t fucking bawling, Oikawa.”

“Shut up! You cried, too!”

“Yeah, because you were so goddamn heavy! I had to carry you all the way home cause you’re an idiot who didn’t bring his shoes!”

Takahiro grins, nudging Hitoka’s side. “There’s photographic evidence of that, by the way. Because Oikawa takes selfies in every conceivable situation.”

“Shame he didn’t record the confession,” Issei adds. “That would’ve made fantastic blackmail material.”

“But no," Takahiro says, "suddenly they’ve developed a sense of privacy. Incredible. You’re all over each other all the time, so I don’t see why you even try.”

Hajime feels heat rising to his face, but Tooru looks so pleased that he sort of doesn’t really care. So what, really. He knew what he was getting into, better than anyone. And honestly, with Tooru in his lap, glowing like he’d just landed a service ace, and surrounded by their friends - it’s hard to see a reason to complain.

Even as he’s thinking that things are actually pretty damn good right now, he feels himself yawn. Tooru turns to give him a smile that’s fifty percent fond and fifty percent malice.

“Aw, is little Iwa-chan tired?”

Hajime swats at the back of his head, missing on purpose as Tooru ducks and giggles.

“We should get going soon, anyway,” he says. “You’ve got classes to prepare for.”

Tooru makes a show of leaning back against Hajime with his entire weight, sighing in immense exaggeration.

“Iwa-chan is so mean-”

“Yeah, okay, we’re going. C’mon. Up you get.”

Tooru narrows his eyes. “Are you my mom-”

“No, but you might be sleeping on the couch tonight,” Hajime lies, just to see Tooru’s outraged expression.

“Rude!” he says, but he gets to his feet, even offering Hajime his arm to pull him up. “Why are you like this?”

“Cause someone’s gotta make sure you’re not too spoiled, obviously. Can’t unleash that on the world.”

He ignores Tooru’s indignant spluttering in favor of turning to face their friends.

“I'm kind of… hm. Sorry about this, I think,” he says, addressing Hitoka rather than the others.

She shakes her head, smiling up at him. “Not at all! It was nice to finally properly meet you, Iwaizumi-san!”

Hajime nods, and then Tooru is draping himself over his shoulders, tilting his head as he looks at Hitoka.

“You know, Hitoka-chan, if you’re gonna be dating our friends, you should really call us by our names as well.”

Hitoka’s eyes widen, caught off guard, and she stammers, “Uh- y-yes, Tooru-san!”

It’s kind of adorable, in its own way. Hajime smiles. “Don’t mind him, he’s just being a dick.”

“Iwa-chan!”

“Come on, idiot. We should say goodbye to the others, too.”

As if on cue, Koutarou and Tetsu look up from their end of the couch.

“Aw, leaving already? We didn’t get to talk at all this time!” Koutarou says, sounding sort of dejected.

“Don’t worry, Kou-chan, Iwa-chan was just being mean, as always, so you didn’t miss out on much.”

Hajime throws him a dirty look (as best he can, over his shoulder) and says, “I’ll see you in chem on Monday anyway, Bo.”

“It’s not the same!” Koutarou insists, and Tetsu puts an arm around his shoulders.

“They’re just gonna have to come over again, aren’t they?”

Tooru nods enthusiastically. “Of course! I’ll gladly get drunk at your expense rather than my own.”

Hajime elbows him in the side, but Tetsu just laughs. “You’d better watch yourself, Oikawa-san. My hand might slip at some point…”

“Vague and unconvincing,” Tooru says, shrugging. “I know you love me.”

Tetsu rolls his eyes. “Get out of my house.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, yell at me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I'd be glad to hear what you thought of this, so drop me a comment if you've got the time :D
> 
> Special shoutout to my very understanding and patient friends, most notably CJ and Rikka in this case for helping me out, I love you ok (And also to Sky who jumped on the MatsuHanaYachi train with me ahhh I HAVE FEELINGS)


End file.
